


Quiet

by jaxdaws (divinepotato)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dominant Hux, Hux Offers To Help, Kneeling, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Safewords, Submissive Kylo Ren, Surprisingly Responsible Dom!Hux, Switching, rating for future chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 04:05:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5897587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divinepotato/pseuds/jaxdaws
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren lacks discipline. It falls to Hux to give him some. </p><p>(Rating in place for future chapters.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kylo Ren is a  _ literal _ disaster. 

The man is petulant and childish and prone to fits of anger that make him nigh impossible to work with. Although he has never personally assaulted Hux, he has assaulted countless numbers of his men in one way or another, from actual physical attacks to verbal abuse, scare tactics and outright mind control.

Were it not for the fact that they had no say in the matter, Hux is certain that at least half of his men would have requested to be sent as far away from Ren as physically possible. Certainly, he personally could absolutely understand the sentiment. Half of the time, he himself would like to be transferred as far from Ren, but along with fewer personal hours and far more responsibility, dealing with Ren was one of the pitfalls of being General. It was not often that he felt sympathy towards anyone, particularly those beneath him, but hearing the tales of deeply shaken stormtroopers never failed to pull a grimace of commiseration from him. At least, he reasoned, it was weeding out the weak: those who managed to survive around Ren were sure to be stronger for it. And if they could face one of Ren’s tantrums without fear, then Hux was damn sure they could face anything.

Before now, it has been manageable. The damage has been little, and Ren’s tantrums have been few and far between, but since the loss of Starkiller Base and whatever happened between Ren storming off in search of the girl and Hux pulling his unconscious form from the collapsing planet, the Force Adept has been moody at best and downright homicidal at worse. His outbursts have come at a near-weekly basis, and most of their troops have learned to outright avoid Ren altogether, or risk being the subject of his ire. 

To make matters worse, they are now in a period of recovery, and are two steps back in their goal to eradicate the remaining Jedi from the galaxy than they were to begin with. Even Hux himself would admit in the privacy of his own mind to being truly dismayed by the loss of Starkiller. The main Republican hub on Hosnia Prime is gone, but with it, they have cast their hand and now have no means of defense. It’s a perilous position to be in, but all Hux can do is plan and hope that the Republic and their Resistance are reeling as much from their wounds as the First Order is.

He is not so much concerned  _ for _ Ren as concerned for the rest of them in the light of Ren’s recent increasing instability. It strikes a personal chord of contempt within him when the result of Ren’s more frequent outbursts are the complete demoralization of his men, ranging from avoidance to outright terror. This means one thing.

Hux, being possibly the only one on the  _ Finalizer _ who is not at all afraid of Kylo Ren (aside from perhaps Phasma, but he respects her too much to ask her to handle Ren,) is the one who has to bring the man to heel before he destroys them completely quite without meaning to.

The situation reaches breaking point while Hux is asleep. He finds himself woken by the blaring of an alarm on one of his datapads, and is bitterly tempted to simply ignore it and roll over, but with the loss of their key asset (and he would state to his grave that Ren was in  _ no _ way their key asset, particularly since that would aggravate the man to no end,) Hux simply can not continue finding money to keep replacing equipment that Ren destroys simply because the man refuses to control himself. No, as much as he hates it, this is something he needs to deal with.

As he arrives, he can hear Ren’s inarticulate howl of rage amidst the sounds of the man’s lightsaber and metal and glass breaking from down the hall. It quiets when he approaches, only in time for Ren to storm past him in a flurry of robes and anger, bumping past Hux’s shoulder. He cannot muster the will to go after him in this state, so he simply passes into the room to..

Nothing. There is nothing left.  _ Everything _ is gone, smouldering away or in pieces, cheerfully sparking away onto the floor.

This will not do.

\--

“Supreme Leader, it has come to my attention that despite best efforts of all involved, Ren’s temperament grows more unstable by the day,” Hux begins, gazing upwards at the holofigure of Snoke. It is, quite frankly, unreasonably large. Not that he himself would be immune to fits of grandeur were he the one in absolute power, but there is something about the looming holofig that strikes something instinctive inside of him. He feels like a child before the man, and not simply because Snoke is quite obviously his senior. There is something about being forced to look  _ up _ even beyond the normal range of human height that makes him feel twelve years old again, gazing up at his father’s stern expression and trying desperately to justify his actions to a man whom he respected above all others.

Hux himself is not a short man, but before the great shadow-cast image of Supreme Leader Snoke, he feels almost insignificantly small. And he  _ detests _ it more than anything else. He has no camaraderie with Kylo Ren, but there at least when the knight is beside him they are unified both in either blame or victory.

Snoke says nothing, and met with that frankly imposing degree of silence, Hux forges on.

“With the destruction of Starkiller base, the mounting repair and replacement costs of Ren’s  _ fits of pique _ ,” The sneer he feels, contemptuous and angry, is only barely contained, but he is sure that Snoke already knows how he resents being saddled with a man he considers to be little more than a child in emotional capacity, “are becoming untenable. Supreme Leader, he lacks discipline entirely. He is a  _ child _ , lashing out when he--”

“Silence,” Snoke interjects, calm and cold and seemingly  _ infinite _ as always. Hux tries not to balk at being interrupted, tries not to let his mind do the instinctive thing of wondering if has somehow misstepped, if he has somehow made a mistake in complaining about the Supreme Leader’s apprentice. It never fails to form an anxious knot in the pit of his stomach. He has never done well with being reprimanded, always feeling bile at the back of his throat when he knows that he is in the wrong.. “Kylo Ren was placed with you, General, precisely for that reason. I had thought that perhaps in the sphere of your influence, he might learn some control. It seems I was wrong.” 

It sounds like an admission, but Hux knows it better for the accusation it is. Ren has been sent to him, an unruly  _ dog _ of a man, with the idea that he might learn some of Hux’s borderline obsessive control by osmosis. The fact that this has not occurred is wholly Hux’s fault. The prickle of shame he feels at the nape of his neck turns his stomach in sequence, his mouth pressing into a thin line. He burns with it, and swallows his anger.

“I see,” His voice is more clipped than he has any right to be. Of course the Supreme Leader has plans and designs that are beyond his scope, but it galls him to be kept out of the loop, particularly when apparently it was expected that he actually  _ do _ something about Ren’s tantrums. Without the power to specifically punish the man, he is quite at a loss for how to proceed.    
  
“With all due respect, Supreme Leader, I do not possess the ability to read minds,” Hux is aware that he is bordering impertinent. He has never born his own failures well, particularly those he deems to be unfair. “But now that I am aware that you wish for me to  _ temper _ Ren’s outbursts, I shall endeavor to do so.”

As he is not immediately vaporized, Hux assumes that there is some degree of amusement in the Supreme Leader’s tone when he speaks. 

“See to it that you do,” Snoke says, but it’s Hux’s mind that supplies the  _ magnanimously _ . He is somewhat relieved that despite letting his frustration get the better of him, the Supreme Leader is understanding. “That will be all, General.”

He leaves the chamber with only few more answers than he entered, though, he supposes, this is not unusual.

\---

Ren presents an imposing figure stood impassively in the centre of Hux’s office, all six-something feet of him garbed in black. He has not forgone the helmet, but its cover does not unsettle Hux the way it once did. He knows Ren now, and knows that despite his tantrums, he would not risk the Supreme Leader’s ire by killing Hux of all people. The knowledge that for now he is just as untouchable as Ren himself is fortifies him. It may have made him smile, but now was not the time nor the place for it.

Hux steeples his fingers and observes Ren for a few seconds longer.

“You are aware, I’m certain, of why I’ve requested your presence,  _ Lord Ren. _ ” The title is something of a joke to him. Ren is no more a lord than he is the monster he tries to present himself as. Nevertheless, he clearly bristles, because Hux is suddenly aware of a faint static charge in the air. A lesser man might be cowed by it, but Hux is fairly certain he’s seen the bulk of Ren’s parlor tricks.

“The rising cost of your quite frankly  _ staggering _ incompetence with regards to your control of your own emotions is completely unacceptable.” Hux likes being on the other side of an issue. He far prefers the gravity that a good desk provides, far prefers the ball to be in his court, so to speak. Ren is angry, even without his face Hux can tell. He straightens, and tries to make himself even larger, but it is by now largely ineffective.

“And so, as if I do not already have enough work to do, the Supreme Leader has tasked me with instilling some measure of discipline within you. I consider him extremely generous for not simply executing you, as at present, you are nothing to the First Order but a liability.”

“No.” Ren says, as if he has a choice, “I will not be the subject of your whim, nor your ridicule. If your men are incompetent enough to earn my  _ rightful _ ire, then you ought to be tasked with better training  _ them. _ ”

Hux imagines he can hear the petulance in Ren’s tone already, but believes that he sincerely thinks that those around him are to blame, not he. This childish view is not one that the General is willing to humor, but further needling Ren will do him no good in the long run, however pleasurable it may be. If Ren becomes defensive, he will not be at all receptive to the help he clearly so desperately needs. If Hux cannot  _ help _ him, then the Supreme Leader will find someone else to do the job of training his errant pet, quite possibly at the cost of Hux’s head. It is not a prospect he finds particularly inviting.

He sighs, and deflates only minutely, making himself smaller for the sake of Ren’s ego. Put him at ease. Hux hates that he cannot simply intimidate his way around the issue, and hates even more that he does not simply have the power to  _ force _ Ren into obedience, but perhaps that is for the best. If he has to force the man, his plans may take far longer to bear fruit.

“You are a slave to your emotions, Ren. While you cannot control them, you will never be free of their yoke,” He says, and Ren only bristles further, but he shifts, uncomfortable, and Hux knows that he’s won.

“The Supreme Leader wishes for me to teach you in some capacity to  _ switch off. _ You are of little use to anyone in your present state. I can do that, but you must be willing.”

Hux cannot tell what is going on behind the mask, but whatever it is, it unravels all of his careful words and calculated vulnerability. 

“ _ No. _ ” Ren seethes, and turns on heel, stalking out of the room. Hux was not aware that it was possible to slam automatic doors, and yet, somehow Ren manages it.

Well then.

\--

Hux is reading over a report on his datapad when Ren storms in, thoroughly unannounced. He’s not pleased, partially because it’s  _ fucking rude  _ and he hates that more than anything, but also because of all the people Hux did not particularly want to know that he has anything less than perfect vision is Kylo Ren. 

Nevertheless, it’s useless being embarrassed about it, so he looks at Ren over the rim of his spectacles, exceptionally unimpressed, but saying nothing. He would have thought that most sane people would see this as an invitation to speak, but not Ren. The man stands there and, shifting his weight, looks for all the world like an insect pinned to a board. It pleases him, and he remains silent to prolong the man’s discomfort. 

“Fine,” Ren grits out eventually, and it speaks volumes that Hux can  _ hear _ the sound spoken through his teeth even when altered by the helmet’s ridiculous modulator. 

“Excuse me?” Hux arches a slender brow, sitting back in his chair. He knows exactly what Ren is talking about, of course he does.    
  
“ _ Fine.” _ The Force-Adept repeats, a little more forcefully. “I will accept your.. guidance.” Hux can hear the grimace with something that is getting dangerously close to glee. He does not grin, but it’s a close thing.

He stands, rounding the desk, discarding his reading glasses as he does, and perches on the edge of the table, legs crossed at the ankle. Watching.    
  
“In agreeing to my assistance, within this room or any other I deem appropriate for your training you will submit to me completely. You will do as you are told. If I deem it necessary that you are punished, you will be punished. If you are deserving of reward, I may reward you. You will obey my orders without question. Do I make myself clear?”   
  
Hux did not believe it were possible for Ren to look any more irritated, at least, not without removing the mask, but there is something in the air that radiates his resentment as he stands there in stony silence. 

“...Fine.” He repeats, as though it were the only thing he could bring himself to say without launching into a tirade. 

“You will refer to me as General, if that is too much for you, ‘sir’ will suffice.” He was enjoying this far too much. 

“Fine.”

Hux clicks his tongue disapprovingly against the roof of his mouth, and the air grows heavier still. He fully expects Ren to snap, to strike out or attack or at least to storm out of those doors again and take his oppressive cloud with him, but he’s more than sure that by now, the challenge has been set. If Ren were to leave, it would mean handing Hux the knowledge that he has proposed more than the Force-Adept is willing or able to shoulder.

“Yes, General.” Ren spits, dripping venom. He’s drawing up now, but less like a snake and more like an angry bird, puffing itself out to make it appear larger. It’s the words he wanted to here, but the tone rankles him, leaving him unimpressed again, brows drawing down to show it on his face. That would have to change, but for now, Hux allows it to slide. Progress is that Ren is willing to obey at all, and the General is certain that he will learn in time.

“Good,” He praises without truly praising, his own words clipped and curt as he bobs his head, satisfied. “You may kneel.”

Hux stands with deliberate ease, moving around his desk once more and returning to his seat. He sits, without looking at Ren, replacing his spectacles on his nose once more. Only then does he look at Ren, who is still stood in the centre of the room. He contains the sigh, but allows the stab of irritation to fortify him.    
  
“If you have an objection, you may leave. Do not bother returning,” He advises, allowing an edge of danger to seep into the command that he knows will go unheeded, but resolves to be satisfied so long as Ren understands that he is true in his assertion. Ren is free to leave, but Hux will not chase him and will not push the matter further.    
  
It is not lost on him that he may be shooting himself in the face, but if Ren leaves, Hux will simply have to find some other way of pacifying him. A frontal lobotomy sounds like bliss about now.   
  
“You said I ‘may’ kneel, General. I have chosen not to.” It’s damn petty, and Ren has the audacity to sound  _ pleased _ with himself for being so clever. Hux wants to slap him, but he has to admit to himself that it is a  _ little _ amusing. Very clever. He’ll take it out on the man later, and does not grace him with a smile, but rather a flat, wholly unamused expression. Fifteen seconds pass in stony silence, with Ren still standing there and Hux can practically  _ taste _ the smirk in the air.

“ _ Kneel _ , Ren.” He barks, a tone he’s never actually used on the Force user himself, but has surely been heard inflicted on the crew around him. Another second passes before Ren moves, and Hux is surprised by how gratified he feels that the man slowly drops to his knees, sitting on his heels. He folds his hands in his lap, and Hux is content to leave him there. He had barged in on Hux at work, after all.

He ignores Ren for two and a half hours, only becoming aware of him every so often when the man shifts his weight, clearly growing uncomfortable with the chill of the metal floor seeping through his clothing. Head bowed, Hux can almost imagine that he’s fallen asleep. Tired, he folds his glasses on the table and grinds the heel of his palm into one of his eyesockets.

“Good,” He praises again, leaning back in his chair. He cannot deny that Ren looks far better knelt patiently than he does throwing things and screaming. Perfectly orderly, he might even be mistaken for some statue decorating the roomy centre of Hux’s office. “You may leave. I will call for you if I desire your presence. If you feel disquieted before then, you may seek me out.” He instructs, and Ren shrugs his shoulders. It irks him, but Hux does not point it out. 

“Fine,” He says again, and it is clear that kneeling for two and a half hours has done less for Ren than it has done for Hux, but he has no chance to reprimand the man before he turns on heel and sweeps out of the room. 

Hux marvels at the amount of paperwork he has completed, and his general feeling of calm.

This may just work. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, there's that rating jump I was talking about.

As it happens, Ren does not come to him, nor does Hux have chance to call on him before another  _ incident _ happens. Three days pass in quiet, and on the third, Ren destroys an entire databank terminal. He still does not seek Hux out, so the General goes looking for him, finding him in his quarters, pacing like a caged nexu. 

There is something to be said of the idea of disciplining Ren in his own quarters, space that he has made his own, however sparse and undecorated it may be. He does not knock as he usually might, instead making a point of walking in unannounced and relatively unimpeded. He won’t discipline Ren here, considers it unfair. He remembers the wardogs that were trained at the academy, and even they had their own bed at the end of the day. He can give Ren that much, he is not cruel. Not yet.

He does not greet Ren.

“Come with me,” Hux commands, and then turns on heel. Perhaps surprisingly, Ren follows. 

They walk in silence back to Hux’s office, Ren trailing after him like an overgrown dog, never far away. The air around him is still static, and the occasional light flickers as they pass, as if he is some spectre haunting the destroyer. Once in his office, Hux allows the door to close and he locks it. The two of them may never trust one another, but he needs to make a pretense at it for image’s sake. Once more, Ren lurks in the centre of the room, this time seeming far more uncertain of the last. Perhaps he can sense Hux’s ire. It would not surprise him.

“Take off that helmet. In the future, you will leave it in your rooms, or remove it immediately in mine,” He orders, and folds his arms across his chest looking expectant. Ren removes the helmet, saying nothing, and Hux takes it from him. It is surprisingly heavy. He wonders if there is some further design to it than the obviously sinister appearance. Perhaps it keeps other Force users from his mind. Given the fact that there are now two of them running around unchecked, it might be useful. He’d get one, but his flair for the dramatic does not extend quite so far as wearing a mask like a child. He becomes aware that he has been staring at the thing, and in turn, Ren has turned his dark, dark eyes to Hux and is also looking.

The fact that the man could be inside his mind at any moment is unsettling. He may have to attempt to do something about that. There should be-- It’s a violation, and more than that, an upper hand that he hates that Ren has. He sets the helmet down on his desk, leaning against it. 

“Kneel,” He says, and Ren does. However angry he was before, he is calm now, almost curious, at least on the surface. Hux grunts a pleased sound, rounding his desk and resuming what he was working on before Ren’s tantrum had interrupted. 

After half an hour, there is one obvious flaw in having Ren remove the helmet. While Hux can now see his face and his expressions, he can also tell that Ren is  _ watching _ him. Like an oversized bird perched in the centre of his room, Ren’s head is inclined just so, and Hux feels like some kind of animal in a zoo, being inspected and evaluated. He wonders, not for the first or even the second time, if Ren is reading his thoughts. It feels paranoid and ridiculous to wonder if he screams as loudly as he can within the confines of his own mind, would Ren flinch?

He does not try it, and resolves not to look up anymore, angling himself just enough that Ren’s ridiculous helmet obscures the man from view.

Two more hours pass before he tires of working, and turns his attention to the kneeling knight once more.

“Are you aware why I’ve brought you here?” He queries, and Ren’s eyes narrow, as if the idea that this might be  _ punishment _ for his outburst angers him.

“Yes,” He says after a moment, only elaborating when it becomes apparent that Hux’s silence expects more than simply a one-worded answer. In truth, Hux was expecting the title he’d requested at the end of Ren’s answer, but he will take further elaboration in lieu of it. “I was angry. I destroyed things.”   
  
“Equipment.  _ Valuable _ equipment, I might add,” Hux corrects him, irritation edging into his voice. He is more than done with Ren’s persistent dramatics, “That will take months to source and replace. Why?”   
  
“Because I have given the technicians all I know, the absolute extent of our knowledge and they  _ still _ have found not hide nor hair of the girl, or indeed,  _ any _ of the Resistance!” Ren snaps, and as if he has been reminded of his earlier anger, it flares anew. Hux can see it gleam in his eyes, brows drawing down along with the corners of his mouth. He is certain that if Ren were on his feet, the man may just stomp his foot.    
  
“Wrong. Try again,” He states plainly, shaking his head.   
  
“Because they are  _ incompetent _ and we have no use feeding such  _ useless _ \--”   
  
“Because you lack control!” Hux snaps, quieting the man with his sudden outburst. Despite his impassioned speeches, the General is not one to succumb to burning anger. His rage is much colder, much more calculated and directed. Ren may kill a man in rage, but Hux would  _ destroy _ him. So to snap so shortly was.. odd. It clearly surprised the younger man into silence.    
  
“I told you that if I saw that you needed punishment, I would punish you. Undress.” He commands, and Ren blanches.    
  
“What? No.” The brunet refuses, shaking his head, his arms folding across his chest. “This is ridiculous, General, I will not be punished like a child.”

“Undress, Ren. Now.” There’s the cold anger, that is much more typical. It works, as Ren gives him a contemptuous look and his hands go for the belt around his waist, unfastening it. There is uncertainty in his expression now, and Hux wonders if he has ever truly been punished for anything before. It would certainly explain his behaviour if the answer was no.

Ren undresses, first pulling his robe over his head and beginning to fold it, setting it aside carefully. Hux is stricken by the odd urge to look away, as if he can cope with Ren already naked, but the act of undressing is bizarrely intimate in a manner that catches him completely off guard. Unwilling to watch, he goes to one of the cabinets in the corner of his office and removes from it a switch made of dark, slender wood. From the moment he had known where he’d be taking this, Hux has been prepared. 

When he turns back, Kylo Ren is bare as the day he was born, his clothes in a neat pile to one side. His arms are folded across his chest, as if protecting himself, but he does not seem ashamed. Nor should he be, Hux notes, Ren is in good shape. There is an ugly scar at his side where the bowcaster had hit him, and his body is otherwise marked with pale lines here and there, but he is surprisingly muscular for a man who seems more like a tree than a human being. 

“Brace your hands on the desk,” He says, and Ren does. 

“Lean forwards,” He says, and Ren does. It’s a thrilling notion, that he can give an order and Ren will carry it out. It puts a little shiver through him, and he feels the urge to grin. Ultimately, he ignores it, rounding Ren to stand behind him.   
  
“There may come a point in this exercise, or another, where it becomes too much for you to bear. When it does, there is a phrase you will give me and I will stop unquestioningly,” He explains, running the very tip of the switch over Ren’s back.    
  
“Unnecessary.” Ren replies testily, scowling now, as though Hux has dealt a personal blow to his pride by insinuating that he might not be able to handle it.    
  
“Absolutely necessary,” Hux states, but does not strike him with the switch, not yet. “The phrase is ‘Naboo Starfighter’, repeat it back to me.” 

“Naboo Starfighter.” Ren says on a sigh, and leans forwards as if exasperated with the entire exercise. It is possible he is. Hux, on the other hand, feels a tightening of anticipation in the pit of his belly. He’s wanted to punch the man in his aggravating face for far too long to bear impassively. 

“Good. If you do not use the phrase, I will not stop until I feel like it. When you use it, the exercise will end. No questions, no judgement.  This is  _ my _ promise.” He swears, because it’s  _ important _ . He may not like Ren at all, but Hux is a man of principle and Ren is his ally if not his friend. He would hurt him, absolutely, but he would rather not break him. 

Ren says nothing, and Hux brings the switch down across the pale curve of his backside. He startles, but doesn’t make a sound, moving a little to bring his feet closer together, protecting more delicate areas. Hux is in half a mind to make him stand with his legs apart once more, but this is not personal, not like that. He has no desire to make it so messy. 

He starts in at a steady pace, swinging the switch back and forth across Ren’s backside and thighs, raising angry red lines that criss-cross along his pale flesh. He is so fair-skinned that the color is obvious, suffusing a pink glow through the man’s flesh. He soon runs out of unmarked skin, and raises his arm to deal the first blow back where he started. Ren cries out at that, back arching inwards as though to bring his body away from the blow, but quickly settles back where he was.    
  
Warmed through, likely by exertion, Hux removes his jacket and lays it across his chair, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow. He does not ask how Ren feels. He does not particularly care. 

He then begins to swing harder, the switch making a definite  _ woosh _ before it strikes Ren. This time the man’s cry tumbles into a long moan and his head falls out of Hux’s immediate sight, shoulders shaking slightly. He has the strangest urge to remove his gloves, run his fingers down the marks he’s made and see if Ren’s skin feels as heated as it looks. He ignores it and swings again.

By the time Hux has worked back over his marks a second time, Ren’s arms are shaking with the effort of holding himself up, and Hux is not certain whether the liquid that has dripped onto the steel of his desk is perspiration or tears. Ren’s breath certainly has a gasping quality to it, whether that is from his shouting or he’s begun to sob Hux cannot quite tell. 

“Good boy,” He says, to rub salt in the wounds. Ren stills, as if angry, but does not move. In fact, aside from the occasional little hitch of breath, the knight has gone statuesque and nigh silent. “Good boy,” Hux repeats, leaning the switch against the desk and taking hold of Ren by his biceps, guiding him backwards. He’s hard, cock curving upwards towards his belly, the tip just as flushed red as Ren’s abused rear. That isn’t uncommon, nor does it surprise Hux per se.

What surprises Hux is that he’s hard too. As his heart rate drops and he calms, it’s a definite problem, trapped against the zipper of his pants and pulsing ache with every throb. He surreptitiously adjusts himself and guides Ren around to the other side of his desk, taking a seat. 

“Kneel,” He commands, and this time when Ren obeys, it’s like being punched in the gut.  _ Fuck. _

If Ren notices his erection, he says nothing about it, kneeling by Hux’s side and tucking his damp cheek against the side of Hux’s thigh. The dampness seeping into his pants is something that he unfortunately tolerates, because as much as he’d like to, he cannot in good conscience tell Ren to get out right now. He curses himself for forgetting to bring a blanket to cover the younger man with once they had finished, and looks around his office. It aggravates him to resort to it, but he’s more angry at himself than anything else as he stands, pulling his greatcoat from the rack and gently dropping it around Ren’s still-trembling shoulders. His eyes are glassy and unfocussed. Good.

Ignoring the persistent ache between his legs, Hux pours two glasses of bright green juice from a decanter on the counter behind his desk, passing one down into Ren’s cupped hands and making certain that he doesn’t drop it. 

“Ren.” He says, jostling the man out of his reverie, “Drink.”   
  
Kylo drinks, his lips chapped and swollen where he’s clearly been biting them, and looks even more a child sipping juice, naked and kneeling and wearing Hux’s coat. Well, not a child. But.. innocent. More innocent than he has any right to be, considering he can kill people with his  _ mind. _ Hux grouses in silence, thoroughly irritated by just how turned on he is. It’s not Ren. It’s  _ not. _ It’s just.. He can command people around day and night if he wants, but there’s something about having his begrudging  _ equal _ on his knees for him. There’s something far more personal about this kind of control. It’s deeply, deeply unsettling. 

By the time Ren becomes more aware of himself again, Hux is absolutely ready for him to leave. He will have to have their ‘session’ in a more neutral locale next time, he cannot be doing with waiting for Ren to get dressed and make himself scarce, and he can hardly walk out of his own office. It’s a thoroughly uncomfortable situation, and Hux has never liked the awkward silence that follows these kind of things. What is he supposed to say now, knowing that he was  _ literally aroused _ by whipping the other man? That Ren himself was aroused by being whipped?

Ren seems to have the same idea, as when he can stand he does, going straight for his clothes and pulling his robes on first, forgoing the tight pants he wears beneath in favor of letting his abused flesh rest unimpeded by chafing fabric. As he breezes out of the door without a word, (and that’s fine, it is, honestly,) Hux files it all away as an unfortunate biological reaction like all the others he is forced to endure by virtue of being flesh and blood, and resolves, like a great many other things, not to think about it. 


End file.
